by Greg Giles & John Pringle

August 6th., had fourteen club cyclists from various locations in BC, Ontario, and Washington state, depart Vancouver via either the Horseshoe Bay or Tsawwassen ferries; four more rode from Victoria. We converged at Nanaimo’s inner harbour where we boarded a small skiff-like ferry (similar to those plying Vancouver and Victoria’s inner harbours) for the short ride to Newcastle Island Marine Provincial Park, a natural sanctuary for kayakers, sailors and cyclists (no cars allowed). The park is managed by the Snuneymuxw First Nation, who served us fresh open-fire-baked salmon, cooked in front of us while we had a wee drink or two. The island has a pleasant hiking trail, wending around the island, tame deer and picture postcard vistas across the Strait. Our tents were pitched at water’s edge, silvered by a full moon over the calm waters.

Next day we “skiffed” back to Nanaimo and rode to Qualicum Bay via the long sandy beach of Parksville where some walked the sands and collected seashells while others toured the very creative “sand castles” adjacent the beach.

Our patch of sunny weather continued as we caught a much bigger ferry to Denman Island and a short ride across the island to a second ferry and over to rustic Hornby Island. One of us went left instead of right and ended up circling back around Denman! Hardly a problem on a nice day. Hornby is a bit of a throwback to the hippy days of the 60’s; it has a nice little area of outdoor shopping stalls where local artists sell their wares to a background of music and the smells of exotic coffees, etc. We stayed a second day which allowed us to take the trails to beautiful Helliwell Park, and/or to the long sandy beach of Tribune Bay. Some brave ones had a swim; others explored the local art works.

Crossing once again to Vancouver Island we proceeded north to Courtenay then on to Miracle Beach Provincial Park where again the brave went swimming from another beautiful sandy beach; they chattered that the water was lovely. Yea right! Here is where our numbers swelled to a full complement of 20 cyclists; the three late arrivals had been enjoying the Chilliwack Hub and Spoke, but just couldn’t miss out on a trip to Haida Gwaii.

Departing Miracle Beach early, it was off to Campbell River for coffee and, would you believe another, ferry ride; this time to Quadra Island. On Quadra some visited the First Nations Community with its own small outdoor swimming pool, a museum emphasizing the “potlatch ceremonial rituals, and totem carvings. Our campsite was at the beginning of Rebecca Spit and a long stretch of land, which creates a bay that is very popular with boaters because of the calm, warm ocean water; the water temperature was 17 C on the inside of the spit making for a refreshing swim.

Next day it was back to Campbell River, and a northward pedal into the less populated parts of Vancouver Island. We followed the tree-lined, steeply undulating highway that had little else abutting the verge, but the occasional little lake, and a wee coffee spot with the best date squares of the trip. Our camp that evening was outside Sayward, where a touring cyclist, returning to Courtenay, joined us for supper and dessert. His cook stove was wood burning. Next day it was on to a BC Forest Service camp at Woss, and then to Port McNeil, an active and pleasant community (for hockey fans, the home of former Canuck, Willy Mitchell, now of the Stanley Cup- winning LA Kings: He’d just brought the trophy home to a proud 4,000 adulating, north- island fans a few days earlier). The campsite access was a steep 15% grade, gravel road to a nice grassy community-run campground frequented by a young black bear that walked off with a neighboring camper’s (a kayaker whose camp-based kayak reeked of salmon) soft-skinned cooler mid-afternoon, as Kumiko, back-to-bear, was setting up her tent nearby (“I thought I heard something”, she exclaimed). The bear sat in a tree, and looked down imperiously as a dog howled from below. However, everyone seemed to have a good night’s sleep (even Ray, who had the nearest site to the kayaker), though with few trips to the restroom.

Continuing up a surprisingly dry Vancouver Island, we reached the end of paved roads at Port Hardy, where a welcome hotel-stay awaited us after nine days of camping. Port Hardy is suffering from a downturn in both fishing and forestry, made visible by the many vacant buildings and empty shops. However, there was a big pink salmon run underway, and locals and tourists alike were happily catching the small salmon from the local docks. The run was so large the local fishery officers encouraged fishers to ignore the four/day limit. Before dinner we removed pedals, turned handle bars, and packed all 20 bikes, and all but essential personal items, into the sag truck for the 16 hour ferry ride to Prince Rupert. Alarms rang at 4:30 AM next morning so we could be in line for our confirmed ferry ride reservation at 5:00 AM, and a 7:30 AM departure into foggy Queen Charlotte Sound. Fortunately, the fog lifted as we entered Inside Passage waters and docked at Bella Bella to unload travelers, and goods. The sun shone ‘til nightfall; hence, we experienced a rare event where you could see all the many islands and snow-capped mountains (many with old growth forests), wave to lighthouse keepers, and see whale as they escaped the approaching ferry.

We arrived in Prince Rupert at 11:30 PM and shuttled to our cute Pioneer “backpacker” Hostel for a short sleep. Up early for breakfast, most ate at the delightful “Cowpuccino” in, where else – Cow Bay, and back to the same ferry dock by 9:00 AM for another ferry to Skidegate on Haida Gwaii’s Graham Island, the biggest of the archipelago. A few opted for the 5 km walk to the ferry before the 7 hour ferry ride, giving us a quick look at what appears to be a reviving Prince Rupert, a city that has suffered through the downturns of both forestry and fisheries, but now looming to be a hub for trans-Pacific shipping.

It is never very encouraging when the ferry has vomit bag dispensers available throughout the ship, but many were spared their use by a very calm crossing with the fog lifting just in time to see Graham Island… We landed at 6:00 PM, a few kilometers east of Queen Charlotte City, and walked the 2 km to Skidegate and its United Church Mission manse and church, where we unpacked the bikes and luggage, and prepared for our Haida Gwaii stay. Tour Leader Eric O’Higgins’ wife Nancy, is the minister here. This village of approximately 200 Haida, is located on a sandy beach on the south end of Graham Island. Next day we visited the Haida Heritage Centre in Skidegate, where fortuitously for us, the Haida were holding their 4th annual celebration. It began with a clans parading in traditional dress, and ended that evening with the physically difficult “dance” contest. This year’s winner went on for 44 minutes. A record. We toured the museum (the complex of buildings with artifacts and carvings that rival the Anthropology Museum at UBC both in scale and quality), native games, foods and the dance. Later in the day, under a sunny sky and a cool breeze, many of us rode off to Queen Charlotte City where approximately 200 predominately non-native folk reside. There are a few shops, eateries, lodgings, and a Saturday farmers market, which we attended. Fresh vegetables, home baking, and seaweed-based powders and flakes (An industrious film maker, who fell in love with Haida Gwaii, harvests north Pacific kelp, and sells it in various forms throughout North America) were available.

We broke camp early (had to be gone prior to the 11:00 AM service) and cycled north to the tiny community of Tlell (all Haida Gwaii communities are small by mainland standards); the Crowsnest coffee shop/store, fire hall and a dozen or so homes make up the village. The ride up the east coast of the island gave us the first hint of both Haida Gwaii weather and its coastal beauty: The mist required rain gear for some; the oceanic/beach views were truly breathtaking, as were the miles of round pebbles to foot sized rocks resplendent in a thick cloaking of algae. Most stopped at Balancing Rock; a large round rock the size of a VW bus balancing precariously on a chunk of lava. We camped at the local fair grounds across from Misty Meadows Provincial Park. The site was perfect with a grass field and “band stand” that provided tent sites, and a large enclosed shelter with stoves, kitchen washing and cooking facilities, and a wood stove with a pile of dry red and yellow cedar for burning. Many hiked the Tlell River banks to see the Pesuta log barge, grounded in 1929 and now half-buried in the shifting sand. Unfortunately high tide and the rivers fast-moving estuarial waters prevented a close view of the wreck.

Next day, as the weather improved and sun came out we continued north to Eric and Nancy’s current hometown of Port Clements, another small community of about 200 residents mainly of Caucasian ancestry. It has a well supplied grocery store, a great coffee shop and the closest settlement to the stump of the once sacred Golden Spruce, which was visited by Carol, Glen and Whitney. Here we rested, consulted and decided to move on to Masset’s Hidden Island RV Resort (equipped with showers) at the north end of the Island for a two night stay. Here we discovered Masset and Old Massett (another Haida village); however both these communities, unlike their southern cousins of Q.C. City and Skidegate, have seen better days. Old Masset, however does have a number of beautiful totem poles, impressive long houses and a variety of skilled artists. The next day most cycled north, if not to Tow Hill and North beach, then to the funky Moon over Naikoon Bakery (more on this establishment later). The pavement ends approximately 10 km from North Beach, but a crummy (first 3 km) to excellent gravel road continues onto the beach, where at low tide one can drive a car another 20 km on hard packed sand north to Rose Spit, the most northeasterly chunk of Haida Gwaii. Just before the road ends an “eroded volcanic plug”, Tow (rhymes with cow, and in Haida means “place of food”) Hill towers above the surrounding forested flat-lands. A newly constructed wood-plank trail takes you to the top for wild views of both North and South (Agate) Beaches. A northern wing of the trail delivers one to a large blow hole that shows off its geyser-like sprays on flood tides. A Chinese-Canadian family of four was spotted joy-ously cooking a bucket of freshly dug razor clams on a picnic table. Now, back to the Bakery: Who would think that in this distant and isolated location one could purchase cinnamon buns and bread the quality of which might be found at Kitsilano’s (Vancouver) popular Terra Breads? What a delight! The owner escaped Nanaimo 22 years ago, and opened the bakery four years later. Bill Gates dropped in a few weeks back for a coffee and bun. Some departed the bakery in rain, which continued through the evening. But we were mellow sitting around a David Kolak-fire, with shelters at hand, ‘til we went for scrumptious fresh halibut and chip dinner at the Resort’s comfortable, and Masset’s most popular, restaurant.

Next morning, under clearing skies, we set off back down the island with a stop in Port Clement for fabulous pie and hot clam chowder (sadly the clams were “few and far between”) before the skies opened up and the rain came down as we rode to Tlell and the fairgrounds. First arrivals, David, and Carol and Glen, had, for the rest of us, a warm fire roaring, and hot water for washing, as we staggered “home”. The other Carol urged the lads to hang tarps at the shelter entrance to retain the warmth. We did as we were told, and thus ate spaghetti and green salad with fruit-salad for dessert, in complete warmth: Most lovely. Many pitched tents indoors or under some kind of cover. Faye hunkered down in the back of the truck, while Hennie deployed the “band stand”. Kumiko and John were under a “rat-a-tat” plastic roof, thus missing out on the soothing patter of rain on tent.

Next morning the skies cleared and a warm sun bathed the beaches during our ride back to Skidegate for another overnight at Nancy’s church. Some stopped at Ben Davidson’s (son of Robert Davidson) “All About U Arts” and pondered expensive carvings (Ray ogled Ben’s cycle- cross and road bikes hanging invitingly over his work bench). While some of us were departing immediately for home others were off the next day for float plane or zodiac rides to explore Moresby Island, the southern main-island of Haida Gwaii; here ancient Haida villages are composting, thereby completing nature’s cycle, as our Skedans watchmen, Walter, gently explained. Of particular interest were Mather Creek’s transition village of 1885 (here, missionaries assembled the few local remaining Haida following a severe disease outbreak), and the WWII logging show that shutdown with the war’s end (a source of Sitka spruce for mosquito bombers). These sites were dripping rainforest – cushions of moss, lichens the size of platters; and fungaeover-fungae. And to top it off, pink salmon were swimming the Creek; Eagles were aloft. Enchanted isles they are. It was indeed a grand tour: Ferry rides and islands galore; good weather; mechanically sound bicycles; good riders; and last, but far from least, the cook team heads (Robin, Carol, Kalikow, Whitney and Jean’s queens) supplied sumptuous fare that will not soon be forgotten. Erik and Nancy were great hosts on their retirement isle.